


frostbite

by earthbendz (adroite)



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst, Character Death, F/M, Grief/Mourning, One Shot, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:40:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27587606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adroite/pseuds/earthbendz
Summary: Grief is a tricky thing.
Relationships: Bato/Hakoda (Avatar), Sokka/Suki (Avatar)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 58





	frostbite

**Author's Note:**

> the lovely gin (@[gingersnapped](https://gingersnapped.tumblr.com/)) was craving some angst and i have delivered... i hope you like it!

Suki is with him when he receives the news.

They’re laughing and joking, drinking tea and eating dumplings together, when the letter arrives. She’s never seen Sokka look so serious—his expression drops, the color drains from his face. He sits still for a moment and then stands abruptly. “Sokka?” she says. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” he says quickly, then corrects, “Er, something happened. I need to go. I’ll see you soon.” He gives her a brusque kiss and then grabs his coat and the letter, walking out the door quickly. Suki sits in shock as she listens to his footsteps fading down the worn path that leads away from their home on Kyoshi Island.

…

“I’m worried,” she says shortly. Ty Lee nods sympathetically, pouring her another cup of tea. It’s been two days since Sokka left, and he hasn’t come back. He sent a letter yesterday on Water Tribe paper, but all it said was, _How’s Kyoshi Island? Hope you’re well. Love Sokka_. It wasn’t off-putting by itself, but it was uncharacteristically short for a letter from him. Suki wasn’t able to stand being by herself in that empty house, so she asked Ty Lee if she could come visit her on the Northern part of the island.

“You should write him back,” Ty Lee says softly. “Tell him you’re worried. Ask for something—anything. It sounds to me like something’s happened back home. Maybe something to do with the rebuilding efforts.”

“He would tell me if that were the case,” Suki replies, sighing. “Or at least, I think he would.” As she thinks more about Sokka’s strange, detached reaction to that letter a few days ago, a fear grows in her that she may not know him at all, even after years of being together.

“It’ll be okay,” Ty Lee reassures her.

…

Another letter comes a few days later, though this one isn’t from Sokka. It’s written in a shaky hand that Suki doesn’t recognize until she glances at the signature—Kanna.

_Suki,_

_I’m sorry my grandson left so abruptly. Don’t worry, I’ve chastised him plenty for how he’s treated his wife during all this. Though you have to understand, his and Katara’s father has passed. It hurts to even write, so I can imagine Sokka’s pain in trying to tell you. You’re welcome to come join the mourning ceremony and catch up with Sokka. He could use some support right now._

_Kanna_

Numb, Suki rereads the letter an upwards of ten times before she fully understands what’s happened. Hakoda has died. Her eyes burn with tears as she thinks back to Sokka’s ashen face, his stiff movements as he left her a few days back. She wipes the tears away quickly as she begins packing.

…

“Is it bad that I can’t bring myself to feel real pain, or to cry more than a little bit?” Suki sips her tea with a shaking hand. She’s packed and ready to leave for the South Pole, but she needed to see Ty Lee again before she left. She feels out of her depth. She doesn’t even have parents of her own, so she can hardly imagine what it feels like to lose one—now both for Sokka.

“I think that’s normal,” Ty Lee says. Her lack of certainty is not reassuring, but talking to her at least helps a little. “I haven’t lost anyone that close to me, either. I do remember what it was like as a kid when Zuko and Azula lost their mom, though that’s a little different. She didn’t die, for one.”

“Were you close with her?” Suki says.

“Not particularly,” Ty Lee says. “But it still hurt to see Zuko so upset. I was sadder for his loss than I was that she was actually gone.”

“That’s how I feel. But… I loved Hakoda. I love him. Sure, we didn’t talk much but… surely I should feel something more.”

“There’s no right or wrong way to grieve,” Ty Lee reminds her. “Just go be with his family. That might make you feel better.”

…

It doesn’t.

Not initially, at least. Grief chokes the air like a thick smog when Suki first arrives in the South Pole. Kanna greets her and informs her that she’s missed the ceremony by a day, but that she’s still welcome to give her condolences and stick around for however long she needs to. Suki gravitates to Sokka first, of course, but he isn’t in their shared home. He must be at Katara and Kanna’s home—where Hakoda used to live as well.

Suki enters and the house seems empty at first, until she hears a murmuring coming from one of the bedrooms. She peeks carefully into the doorway—Sokka sits at the edge of a bed next to a slumped figure that Suki can only assume is Katara. Sokka combs his fingers through Katara’s greasy hair and whispers things that Suki can’t make out. She retreats immediately, aware that she’s intruding on a private moment, and sits solemnly alone in the main room for the next hour.

Finally, Sokka emerges from the bedroom with a blank expression. He sees her and his face doesn’t change. “Suki,” he says. “How did you get here?”

She wants to joke and say she took a boat, but she knows it isn’t the right time. She’s already trying to pick up the pieces from her heart shattering at Sokka’s distant gaze, his complete lack of enthusiasm to see her. She knows it’s selfish, but she wants him to hug her, to kiss her, to thank her for coming. Instead, he just stands a few feet away with that blank stare. “Kanna told me,” she manages to say. “I thought I’d come… to be here for you.”

“Oh,” he says. That’s all. Suki wants to scream but she fights that urge, standing up and walking over to him, tentatively placing her hands on his shoulders.

“Are you okay?” she says. She knows it’s a stupid question, but it’s the only one she cares to have answered right now.

Sokka forces a wavering smile onto his face, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’m okay. I’m acting Chief of the Tribe now—”

“I thought Katara was supposed to be Chief when…” She trails off, unable to say it out loud.

“She is,” he says, his face serious again. “But she’s… not ready. She needs some time. So I’m acting in her place until she feels ready.” Suki thinks of Katara lying in that bed, slumped over with her unwashed hair. Somehow, her expression of grief feels more natural to Suki than this strange performance that Sokka is putting on—the blank stares, the forced smiles, trying to act as if everything is alright.

“Can I see her?” Suki asks. Sokka nods towards the bedroom and Suki walks in carefully, sitting down right in the spot where Sokka had been sitting before. Katara shifts, glancing at her lazily, but her eyes widen a bit when she realizes who it is.

“Suki,” she says groggily, sitting up halfway. “You’re here. I hoped you would come.” Her eyes fill with tears, and Suki pulls her into a hug, holding Katara as she cries quietly. They talk for a while, Katara filling Suki in on what happened—something with his heart, they think—and unabashedly expressing her grief, her anger, her fatigue. Once again, Suki selfishly wishes that Sokka were being this open about his pain. Ty Lee’s words echo in her head— _there’s no right or wrong way to grieve_.

While they talk, Suki suggests making a bath for Katara. She’s hesitant at first, not wanting to leave the bed, but Suki offers to carry her there and wash her hair, and she does. She lathers soap through Katara’s long black hair, washing away over a week’s worth of grease, while Katara plays absentmindedly with the water. For once, Suki feels whole, useful, like she’s actually doing something to help the people she loves. If she’s not doing that, she’s as good as worthless. Once Katara is clean and her fingertips are wrinkled from the water, Suki helps her dry off and get dressed in clean clothes, then carries her back to bed with fresh sheets and furs. As Suki tucks her in, she begins tearing up again.

“I feel better than I have in the past week and a half,” Katara says, tears gathering in her eyes and falling sideways down her face, landing on the pillow. Suki combs her fingers through Katara’s hair like she saw Sokka doing earlier.

“I’m glad I could help you, Katara. Let me know if you need anything else.” She gives Katara a kiss on the forehead and then leaves her to sleep for the night. Out in the main room, Sokka is looking over a map and piles of papers stacked on the table around him. Seemingly for the first time, she notices the dark circles under his eyes, the fatigue in his frame. “When was the last time you slept?” Suki says.

He jolts, looking up at her blankly. She’s waiting for him to laugh it off, to make excuses for his bad sleeping habits like he always does, but instead his brows furrow. “I’ve got lots of work to do, Suki.” For the first time, there’s a crack in his mask, his expression faltering and his voice wavering as he continues, “Thank you for coming. I mean it. But… I’m really busy right now. I have to keep everyone—every _thing_ —together.”

“I can help you,” Suki pleads, taking a step towards the table.

“No, you should relax,” Sokka says softly.

“ _You_ should relax!” Both of them seem shocked by how angry it comes out. Suki opens her mouth to apologize, but instead, she finds herself continuing. “I know you, Sokka. I know that when things get difficult, you bury all your feelings and focus on work and trying to make everyone else feel better. It doesn’t have to be that way right now. Just let yourself—”

“It _does_ have to be that way,” he says, the frustration mounting in his voice. Suki doesn’t want him to be angry, especially not with her, but at least he’s feeling something. “The tribe needs a Chief and Katara is mourning—”

“You’re mourning too! Your dad died, Sokka!” Suki’s eyes flood with tears as she finally feels that sharp stab of pain she was expecting when she first got the news. It hits her, that overwhelming reality that Hakoda is dead, gone, that she’ll never again speak to him or laugh with him or watch from afar as he and Sokka make genius plans together. She’s not done arguing with Sokka, but the grief overwhelms her before she can continue her train of thought, and she falls to the floor as her body is racked with sobs. Sokka jumps up from the table and comes down to her level, wrapping his arms around her and holding her as she cries. She leans into his touch, starved of it, but it feels different from their usual hugs. A little emptier, a little sharper. They’re both still angry, but they know that caring for one another takes precedent over any argument.

There’s only so many rooms in the house, so by the time Suki’s sobs taper off, Sokka leads her to the room where Katara is sleeping and creates a makeshift bed for her on the floor, laying with her and rubbing her back until she falls asleep. Suki wants him to stay with her and get some sleep as well, but she knows that as soon as she drifts off, he’ll leave and go back to his work. She decides that’s an argument for tomorrow as she lets herself succumb to the fatigue of grief.

…

When Suki wakes up, the room is empty. Pale sunlight filtering through the window and illuminating the icy walls already makes her feel a bit clearer than she was yesterday, despite the slight headache throbbing behind her temples. But the room is empty—that means Katara got out of bed. Suki smiles slightly, sensing that this is a positive development. She sits up and does a few warmup stretches that she normally does before her workouts, though this morning she’s just trying to readjust after a night of sleeping atop a pile of furs on the floor.

Her argument with Sokka from yesterday won’t leave her mind, particularly because she knows it never quite ended, but she has a feeling that they’ll be able to talk it out a bit more calmly today. That is until she hears shouting from the other room.

Suki leaves the room tentatively, peeking around the corner at the source of the noise. Sokka, sitting exactly where he was the day before, Katara, and Kanna are all in the living room, along with a figure whose back is facing her. After a few moments she recognizes it as Bato. She feels a pang of sadness, realizing that she never even considered how he must be feeling. She hardly knows him, but she does know that his bond with Hakoda was as strong as, if not stronger than the one she and Sokka have. It takes her a few moments to discern what they—specifically Sokka and Katara—are yelling about.

“I’m ready, Sokka,” Katara shouts. “Okay, obviously I’m not fully recovered, I probably never will be! But you can’t just keep babying me. I’m 22 years old, and I’m ready to be Chief. Bato?” She looks to him with a pleading expression, and Suki can tell she’s begging him to back her up.

“Sokka, if she says she’s ready…” he contributes hesitantly. “She was elected to be Chief before your father’s death. I know everyone was alright with you stepping in while she was incapacitated, but…” He gestures to Katara, who’s standing with her hands on her hips with clean, braided hair and a fresh outfit, stronger than Suki’s ever seen her.

“This isn’t some coup,” Sokka says, his voice nearly unhinged with frustration. His dark circles have grown darker and his hair is frizzy and unwashed. “I’m not saying I should stay Chief forever. I just think Katara might need a little more time—”

Kanna cuts in, “I agree. Just a little more rest.”

“I’ve had enough rest!” Katara practically screams.

“I think Katara’s ready,” Suki says, stepping out from around the corner. Normally, she would feel completely inappropriate intruding on such an intimate family matter, but she can’t look at Sokka and allow him to take on this much responsibility any longer. “Sokka’s the one who needs rest. Look at him.” Sokka stares at Suki with a betrayed, hurt expression on his face. She tries not to let her heart shatter, knowing that this is only for the best. “I think… Sokka, I think you just want to keep this up because it’s a distraction. When you have work to throw yourself into, you don’t have time to stop, and to—to feel it. I know it hurts. But you need to let yourself feel it.”

Everyone is staring at Sokka quietly now, and he stares back, unsure of what to do. Suki feels as if she’s broken through to him until he furrows his brow and starts picking up the maps and scrolls off the table. “None of you understand,” he says, voice raw with anger. “I’m going to work somewhere else.” He gathers up as much as he can hold and bounds towards the door without even stopping to grab his coat, walking out into the windy morning and leaving them all stunned and silent in the main room together.

…

Both Suki and Katara want to go after him right away, but Kanna makes them sit and eat first. After breakfast and a calm conversation where Suki was able to talk with Bato and reminisce a bit about his late husband, Suki begins pulling on her coats and boots. “Can I come with?” Katara says, reaching for her own coat. Suki shakes her head.

“He and I need to talk alone,” she says. “Besides, don’t you have some Chiefly duties to start working on?” They both smile slightly at one another. Katara waves goodbye as Suki grabs Sokka’s coat and heads out, making her way a few blocks over to hers and Sokka’s shared home that they live in whenever they visit the Southern Water Tribe. It’s the only place she can imagine he’ll be.

Sure enough, he’s sitting at the table in the main room just as he was at Kanna and Katara’s home, work spread out all around him. He doesn’t even look up when Suki walks in, but she tries not to let it hurt her too much as she walks over, sitting down next to him and wrapping his coat around his shoulders.

“I’m mad at you,” she says bluntly. “I know I shouldn’t be. Your dad just died; you shouldn’t have to deal with your wife being mad at you on top of that.” He continues staring at the scroll in front of him, but she’s not sure if his tired eyes are even focusing on the writing. “But it hurt me when you left me alone in Kyoshi Island without telling me what had happened. I know it was just your kneejerk reaction to that awful news, but I loved him too. I would have come with you. I should have. I’m sorry I didn’t run after you immediately. I was in shock.” She puts an arm around him, and his brows furrow a bit as he stares at the paper. “I’m also mad about our argument yesterday and about you storming out today—and about you not listening to Katara. I know she’s your little sister, but you know to listen to her by now.” She smiles slightly, but Sokka’s expression stays the same. “And mostly, I’m mad at you for not letting yourself grieve. I know you might just think that this is your way of handling it, and I know it probably worked at first, but it’s becoming unhealthy, Sokka. You need to sleep, to cry. Let someone run their fingers through your hair while you lie in bed and try to feel human again. There’s nothing wrong with letting yourself be vulnerable and feeling the pain of losing someone so important. You _need_ to. And I’ll be here for you when you do.”

They sit there for a few moments longer, Sokka still staring motionlessly at the pile of papers in front of him. Suki realizes he might need some time alone, and she moves to get up, but as soon as she does, his face changes for the first time since she finished talking. His expression breaks—brows knitting, eyes squeezing shut, mouth twisted in pain as tears begin streaming down his face. “I’m sorry,” he says.

“Don’t be,” she responds quickly. “It’s okay.” He bursts into full-fledged sobs at her words, breaking down and collapsing in her arms. Suki holds him close just like he did with her last night. She pulls his hair out of its days-old ponytail and braid, combing her fingers through it, rubbing his back as he bawls in her arms. Every few minutes she kisses the top of his head, just to remind him she’s there. She knows that this is only the beginning of a long period of pain, that there will be countless more nights of begging him to fall asleep and holding him when he inevitably wakes up from nightmares; washing his hair and helping him find the motivation to eat; wiping his tears when his hands are shaking too badly to do it himself. She knows he would do the same for her, and she would do it for him a thousand times over.

It will be long and painful, but it will be necessary for them both to heal, and her only goal right now is helping Sokka feel better, even just one small step at a time.


End file.
